Just Another Week
by Binca
Summary: Explosions, ponies, flowers, Crittendon and Hochstetter. Nothing to worry about, right?
1. The Night that Started it all

_This story doesn't have so much of a plotline as "Bianca was on holiday and thought of as many crazy things as possible to put in one story." Enjoy!_

_oOo_

It was a normal night in Hammelburg, Germany. Or at least as normal as a night could get in the middle of a war. Or at least, 'normal' was what the German guard was thinking as he patrolled back and forth across one of the two main bridges of Hammelburg thinking about all the better ways he could be spending his time. Little did he know that underneath that bridge two men were planting explosives set to go off at midnight, on London's orders. Little did he know that the other main bridge in Hammelburg was also being mined, in order to delay a large truck convoy long enough for the famous 'Papa Bear' to blow it up.

The famous 'Papa Bear,' otherwise known as Colonel Robert E. Hogan, was in fact one of the two men under the first bridge. With him was his second in command, Sergeant James Kinchloe. Both men were dressed head to toe in black and Hogan had black smudges all over his face. Neither of them would have been easy to spot by anyone who didn't already know they were there.

They spent as little time as possible under the bridge, working quickly and silently to plant the explosives and set the timer for midnight. Nobody saw them sneak out of under the bridge once they were done and they remained unobserved as they crept through the woods back to Stalag 13. Even the camp guards remained thankfully unaware as Hogan and Kinch smoothly entered their tunnel system under the camp via the top of a tree stump.

oOoOoOoOo

Unfortunately at the other bridge, the rest of Hogan's men were not having such luck. Newkirk had elected himself to keep watch while Carter and LeBeau mined the bridge. All three men were nervous and their nerves were starting to rub off on each other. Carter had already nearly dropped his share of the explosives twice, causing LeBeau to let loose a string of French under his breath which Carter did not desire a translation for. From his perch a little further along the bridge, Newkirk was shooting the pair of them daggers.

'_If looks could kill...'_ he thought to himself, of course not really meaning it but at the same time not being too impressed with his friends.

After what felt like hours but was in reality only a few minutes, the explosives were in place and the timers set. All three men let out audible sighs of relief once they were a safe distance away.

"Blimey, I thought you two would never finish!" exclaimed Newkirk in a frustrated (and relieved) whisper. LeBeau simply glared at him while Carter opened his mouth to respond.

"Well, I couldn't help it! Boy, that's -"

Carter never got a chance to finish his sentence because two hands had covered his mouth at the same time. Newkirk and LeBeau were both glaring at him, and Carter's eyes went wide as he realised how loudly he had just been speaking. He blinked slowly, staring at his friends and trying to apologize with his eyes while he waited for them to remove their hands from his mouth.

"If ya don't mind Louis," whispered Newkirk, "I really don't need ya oldin' me 'and."

LeBeau returned his glare to Newkirk but removed his hand from Carter's mouth, allowing the Englishman to comfortably do the same.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Carter, earning himself some more glares from his friends. Catching himself, he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "_Sorry!"_

Newkirk and LeBeau rolled their eyes before all three moved on again, this time in total silence. They managed for a good two minutes before the lack of any noise became too uncomfortable for Cater and he opened his mouth to whisper something.

At that precise second a loud voice made itself heard from somewhere up ahead. Carter closed his mouth in shock and all three men drew their guns. The voice made itself heard again and the eyes of all three men widened in surprise. It was a British voice. Another British voice responded in a loud whisper.

Newkirk crept forward slowly, closely followed by LeBeau and Carter. They crouched behind a large bush and peered through the twigs and leaves. On the other side were seven men, six of them wearing civilian suits very obviously made out of blankets. Newkirk cringed, already imagining the terrible stitching that must have gone into the outfits. The other man of the group was dressed in RAF officers uniform.

Carter eagerly stepped out to greet them, realising too late that the man in RAF uniform was none other than Colonel Crittendon.

oOoOoOoOo

"Uhh, sir, why don't you go scout ahead?"

Crittendon looked at Newkirk in surprise, wondering why there had been a note of desperation in the man's voice. Newkirk stared back, trying not to look too uncomfortable. They were getting close to camp and Colonel Hogan would never forgive them if they showed up with Crittendon.

"Oui, why don't you go that way?" whispered LeBeau, pointing in the opposite direction to the camp.

"Nonsense chaps!" exclaimed Crittendon, not troubling to keep his voice down and earning the same glare from Newkirk and LeBeau that Carter had been the victim of earlier. Ignoring them, he carried on with what he wanted to say. "It is my duty to make sure this is a successful escape, and that means sticking with my men every step of the way."

"I was afraid of that," muttered Newkirk. He sighed in resignation and followed the others as they made their way back to Stalag 13.

oOoOoOoOo

"What took you guys so long?" demanded Kinch as Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau emerged into the barracks from the tunnel. Kinch tried to sound stern, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

"Well, we bumped into a couple of escaped prisoners from Stalag 6 on the way back..." began LeBeau, catching Colonel Hogan's eyes before quickly looking away.

"A couple?" questioned Hogan, sounding suspicious.

"Six, to be exact, sir," added Newkirk. Hogan noted that he had the same guilty expression on his face as LeBeau.

"Yeah, we hid them down in the tunnels until you can think of a way to get them back to England!" piper up Carter. "Uhh, sir."

"Look, we have a truck convoy to blow up tomorrow and I still don't know how. Now is not exactly the time to be sending men off to England – after the bridges blow the woods will be crawling with Gestapo!"

Hogan's men stared in shock, three of them also looking guilty, during his outburst. They all knew their commanding officer had been under a lot of stress lately thanks to pressure from both London and the Germans over various issues, and they knew having extra men to get back to England was only adding to the pressure, but it still always came as a surprise when Hogan lost the perfect control he usually had over his temper. He paced the room for a full minute before turning back to face Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau. Seeing their faces, a mixture of guilt, shame and a small amount of defiance, Hogan began to feel a little guilty himself.

"Okay, maybe, _maybe_, we can get those boys out in a few days, once the heat is off. I'll think of something."

Carter immediately looked relieved, but Newkirk and LeBeau still looked guilty about something. Hogan crossed his arms and looked at them questioningly, starting to feel suspicious again.

"Why is it that I have this nasty feeling there's still something you guys haven't told me?"

Newkirk and LeBeau stared at each other, both willing the other to speak. Eventually, and with an encouraging glare from Hogan, LeBeau confessed.

"You see, Mon Colonel, there was this officer with the six men who just insisted on coming along. Newkirk and I tried to lose him, but..."

Hogan took in a deep breath and held it as long as he could before letting it back out, slowly. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew who this officer was, and one look at Kinch's face confirmed he was thinking the same thing...


	2. The Plan

_One look at Kinch's face confirmed he felt the same..._

"I say you chaps! Well done still having all those tunnels going. I'm surprised Jerry hasn't caught on yet!"

Colonel Crittendon's voice, closely followed by his head and then the rest of his body, emerged from the tunnel under the bunk bed. Carter, who had just sat down and taken a sip of coffee, sputtered and chocked, spitting some of the coffee in the direction of Newkirk. Fortunately he missed, but Newkirk still proceeded to roll his eyes at Carter, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like "Blimey."

"They will catch us if you keep coming out of the tunnel without checking that it's safe first," snapped Hogan, not troubling to keep his voice down.

Crittendon was about to reply when someone keeping watch at the door called out an alarm; "Schultz coming!"

Without warning, Newkirk and LeBeau, who were closest to Crittendon and the tunnel, proceeded to push the Colonel back down the ladder despite his confused protests. They just managed to lower the bottom bunk to hide the entrance to their tunnel before the three-hundred-pound Sergeant of the Guard, Schultz, barged into the barracks. The prisoners all ignored him, instead pretending to be focused on the card game Carter and Kinch had hastily set up.

"Colonel Hogan, _please,_ what is going on here?" begged the sergeant, not sounding very happy at having his on-duty nap interrupted before it had even started.

"Relax Schultz, the men are just competing in our annual card tournament," replied Hogan. His expression remained innocent, giving Schultz a perfect cause to remain worried. His eyes grew wide, giving the impression of an overweight owl.

"Gambling is absolutely _verboten," _whined Schultz, his expression turning into one of complete horror. "And you were supposed to have lights out hours ago! I will have to repo-" He trailed off as Hogan draped an arm around the sergeant's broad shoulders and half faced him with a mock serious expression on his face.

"Now how's that going to look for Stalag 13 next time General Burkhalter shows up?"

Schultz stared at Hogan in confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as his brain worked overtime trying to comprehend what Burkhalter had to do with anything. Hogan's face retained its mock serious expression as he gave Schultz almost enough time to come to a conclusion.

"You see, if you report us to Klink now, you will have to wake him up. Naturally, the guilt of having to wake our beloved Kommandant will keep you awake all night. However, if you wait until morning to report us, you will still have to stay awake all night so that you don't forget. Now, a tired sergeant who didn't get enough sleep on guard duty is not going to look good at all."

Catching on to where Hogan was taking this, Kinch picked up the story. "If you're too tired to guard us Schultz, one of us might escape."

"And then, pfft! goes Klink's no escape record," added Newkirk, demonstrating "pfft!" with his hands.

"And when General Burkhalter finds out about the escape..." added LeBeau.

"You and Klink will be making an escape of your own. To Russia!" concluded Hogan, putting emphasis on the word "Russia."

"So if you think about it Schultz," began Carter, striding over to the barracks door and opening it, "it's really not a good idea to report us. You'll be way better off if you just go back outside on guard duty, find a nice bench somewhere and have a good nap. It's for the war effort after all."

With that, the rest of the prisoners crowded around Schultz and pushed him out the door, Newkirk handing the flabbergasted sergeant his rifle on the way.

oOoOoOoOo

The next morning after roll call, Hogan went down to check on the escapees from Stalag 6. He wasn't surprised to find Crittendon giving one of his 'morale boosting' lectures even though none of the men were really paying attention. One of them had actually fallen asleep and another two were slumped against the wall looking drowsy. The other three had the courtesy to sit up straight, but appeared to be more interested in the wall behind their commander.

"Now see here chaps, I'm sure we won't be holed up here for very long. Colonel Hogan will have us out of here in a jiffy, so don't you worry about a thi-"

"That I won't," interrupted Hogan, startling the men and waking them up as he entered the tunnel room kept for guests. "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you guys arrived at a really bad time. Before we even think about getting you out of here we have a truck convoy to blow up. We'll get you out as soon as we can, but you'll probably be stuck here for a few days at least."

"Colonel Hogan, may I remind you that your first priority should be to help these men escape? Besides, we put a lot of effort into escaping Stalag 6, so we are rather keen to get back to England."

"And may I remind you that my orders come from London?" snapped Hogan, his patience already gone. "We'll get you out as soon as we can, but the truck convoy comes first."

At that moment Kinch and Newkirk entered the room and headed directly to Hogan. One look at their faces told him they had important news and he raised an eyebrow, waiting for one of them to share. Kinch began.

"Sir, the truck convoy has parked right outside camp. The major in charge has demanded that Klink put him up until an alternate route has been decided."

"Yeah, apparently some nasty person blew up a couple o' bridges last night and now they can't take the route they was plannin' on takin'," added Newkirk, doing his best to sound innocent.

"Klink's orders are to provide men to help guard the convoy and keep the major as comfortable as possible."

Hogan looked thoughtful for a moment, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes in a way that clearly indicated (to Kinch and Newkirk at least) that he was coming up with a plan. "Has Klink confined us to barracks?" he eventually asked.

"Not yet," answered Kinch. "But I'm guessing it's only a matter of time. We can't have prisoners getting a good look at the convoy now, can we?"

"Right," began Hogan, having obviously come to a decision. "We need to act fast. Newkirk, get some guard's uniforms for Carter and I. We'll go out and plant explosives under the trucks and set them to go off tonight. It's going to be chancy doing this in daylight though, so we are going to need a good diversion in the compound that will last as long as possible. Any ideas?"

"Could we stage a fight perhaps?" asked Newkirk.

"They'd split us up in a second," replied Kinch, looking thoughtful. "What about some kind of giant ball game involving as much of the camp as possible?"

Hogan thought about both ideas for a moment. Neither of them by themselves would be a long enough distraction and besides, what kind of ball game could include enough of the camp to actually draw attention? He spoke that last thought out loud.

"How about stool ball?" asked Crittendon, earning confused looks from Hogan and Kinch. Newkirk however, looked interested.

"Stool ball?" asked Hogan.

"It's a British game sir," began Newkirk, looking more excited by the second, which in turn caused Hogan to look worried. Since when did Newkirk like anything suggested by Crittendon, British game or not? "We used to play versions of it at school."

"So did I. Never was very good at it though."

Newkirk directed a smirk at Crittendon, clearly not surprised. He then turned back to Hogan and Kinch, enjoying their still-confused faces. "There are two teams – don't matter 'ow many on each team, can be as many as ya like. Ya fight for the ball in any way possible and to get a goal ya need to touch the other team's stool with the ball. The goalie sits on the stool to guard it and can defend it any way they like."

"Any way they like?"

"I nearly got strangled by a goal keeper once sir. But five o' me mates tackled 'im to the ground and one of 'em threw the stool at me so I could score. Teachers weren't too 'appy with us that day, I can tell ya."

"I'm not surprised," said Kinch, unsure whether to be amused or troubled by the apparent violence of this game. "How long does a game go for?"

"We usually declare half-time when everyone is too tired to keep playing. Fun game don't you know. Apparently it's very popular with the British prisoners at Colditz..."

Crittendon looked like he was going to continue, but stopped at a glance from Hogan as he began pacing. After around thirty seconds he stopped. "Well, it looks like we don't have much choice. A game like this should certainly distract everyone. Newkirk and Kinch, send Carter down here and then organise the camp into two teams. With any luck nobody will notice Carter and I are missing."

In his excitement, Newkirk was almost out the room before Hogan had finished speaking. Kinch sighed in apprehension and followed.

oOoOoOoOo

_Author's Note: Apparently Stool Ball was a popular game amongst British prisoners at Colditz during WW2, and was based off games played at school. Although there were no strict rules nobody seemed to get seriously hurt. It was watched with much entertainment by the other allied prisoners but when they put up teams against the British it usually resulted in arguments, often over the score, which the British never kept._


	3. The Diversion

_Kinch sighed in apprehension and followed._

By the time Kinch made it back into the barracks Newkirk had already vanished outside, leaving another RAF corporal to explain the rules of Stool Ball to a thoroughly confused group of men and sort them into two teams. Before Carter could be dragged in, Kinch sent him down into the tunnels.

"Seeing as this game is a distraction for the Jerries, play is confined to the main compound. No going between the barracks and try to keep it away from the wire. The stools will be at opposite ends of the compound – one outside Klink's office and the other outside barracks 2. Olsen, you can defend the stool outside the office and you Kinch, can be goalkeeper outside the barracks."

"So I just sit on the stool and don't let the ball touch it, right?"

"Do anything you can to stop the ball touching it! If you can't pick up the ball, pick up the person carrying it. Speaking of which, do we have a ball?"

The answer was no. Apparently all the balls from barracks 2 had been confiscated by Klink for various reasons, most often for finding their way through the window of his office. The men gathered outside anyway, hoping that someone from another barracks still possessed a ball of some description. As it turned out, the only usable ball left in camp was an Australian football, which was not welcome news for all the non-Australians in camp. Several complaints sounded at the same time, which Kinch was forced to silence quickly in order for the game to actually start. As the grumbling died down, Newkirk reappeared.

"Alright gents, I couldn't get any stools so I found us a couple o' chairs," he began. At the word 'found' a few people raised their eyebrows, knowing his 'sticky-fingers' reputation. Ignoring them, Newkirk continued. "And now I think we outta start the game before ol' Klink comes out to ask why we're all standin' 'ere."

At that, Kinch and Olsen made their way over to their respective chairs and, noticing their excellent quality, Kinch had to refrain from wondering where exactly Newkirk had 'found' them. He watched as the ball was placed in the middle of the compound. A shout of "GO!" came from Newkirk, and immediately all the players rushed for the ball, resulting in an all-player pile up.

People found themselves being tossed left, right and centre in the fight for the ball, and the British players especially weren't above dragging others away by their legs. At the sound of all the shouting, Klink came rushing out of his office, terrified that someone was escaping. Upon seeing what looked like the majority of his prisoners in a scrum in the middle of the compound however, he stopped dead, his mouth opening and closing in shock. Eventually, one word escaped him.

"SCHUUULLLLLTZ!"

oOoOoOoOo

Carter rushed into the tunnels to find Hogan, having no idea what was going on. He figured it had something to do with the truck convoy, but apart from that he was lost. He found Hogan in Newkirk's sewing room, where all their various costumes/disguises were kept. Hogan was in the process of putting on a Luftwaffe private's uniform and Carter noticed there was another hanging over the back of a chair.

"Put that on, and then go find as many explosives with timers as you can," was all Hogan said. Carter decided not to ask any questions, even though he was dying to know why they were blowing up a truck convoy, just outside camp, at breakfast time. Eventually the part about 'timers' hit him, and he figured Hogan was planning to be inside the camp when the explosion actually went off.

A few moments later Carter's stock of explosives was vastly depleted as he and Hogan headed out the emergency tunnel. Hogan knew it was a huge risk sneaking out of camp in broad daylight, especially dressed as a German guard and having to mix with camp guards who might recognise them, but he also knew there might not be another chance to get at the convoy.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan straightened his uniform and marched over to join the guards, Carter right behind him.

oOoOoOoOo

"SCHUUULLLLLLTZ!"

"Yes, Herr Kommandant?" came the breathless reply as Schultz rushed up to his commanding officer faster than what should have been physically possible for a man of his weight.

"Break up that fight!" demanded Klink, using a voice that sounded more like an annoyed whine than a strict command.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz, somewhat reluctantly as he saw the size of the 'fight.' It looked like most of the prisoners in the camp were involved, although with all the body tossing that seemed to be going on, it was hard to tell. Nobody appeared to be seriously hurt however, much to Schultz's amazement. He strode over; pointing his rifle at the men even though it wasn't loaded, and none of them were paying attention to him anyway. He opened his mouth to shout at the prisoners to break it up, but before he could say anything the suddenly vanished. One man had broken away from the others and was making a mad dash towards barracks 2 with the rest of the men right behind him trying to bring him down again.

Unfortunately for Schultz, he had placed himself between the fight and barracks 2, so he quickly found himself being bowled over by the overly eager group of prisoners who were still failing to take any notice of him. When they eventually realised the battered sergeant wasn't the man with the ball they let him up and rushed off, dragging him along with them. Ahead, Schultz got a quick glimpse of a horrified Kinch sitting on a chair before spotting the ball heading his way at an alarming speed.

Somehow Schultz managed to catch the ball, but upon seeing the wave of prisoners that was about to hit him, he threw it back in the air behind him. Another shout of "SCHUUULLLTZ!" was briefly heard, followed by a whistle being blown. Nobody paid any attention to this though, and the game progressed.

Only a worn out Schultz was able to spot his very angry Kommandant standing in the middle of the compound, whistle still to his lips, while the prisoners ran around him. Unfortunately at some point Klink had lost his grip on his monocle, and it was now smashed beyond recognition on the ground. Angrily, he started shouting for more guards. The prisoners still took no notice, too involved in the latest pile up as Olsen tried to defend his chair outside the Kommandant's office.

oOoOoOoOo

The men guarding the convoy stared in shock, and amusement, as they watched the game going on inside the camp. They forgot about the convoy altogether when they saw Schultz throw the ball behind him and miss Klink by less than an inch. Hogan too, was shocked, but knew he and Carter had to take advantage of the little time they probably had to plant the explosives. While he kept lookout (and a horrified eye on the game) Carter crawled under the first truck.

oOoOoOoOo

"Break it up! BREAK IT UP!"

Schultz shouted hopelessly at the prisoners as they tackled corporal Langenscheidt to the ground, not even noticing that he was not part of their game. Or pretending not to notice. A shove in his back from Klink caused Schultz to nervously make his way closer to the prisoners, who had now taken the fight partially onto the porch outside Klink's office.

As Schultz got closer, Klink a few steps behind him, one of the prisoners made a break for it with the ball. He headed directly for Schultz, only swerving at the last second to dodge him. The other prisoners didn't bother timing their swerves so well, and the three hundred pound sergeant lost track of what was happening until Langenscheidt tried to uncurl him from the foetal position he had somehow got himself into. While Schultz struggled to his feet, he briefly wondered what had happened to Klink.

"He was chased by the prisoners sergeant," answered Langenscheidt, trying to sound only nervous but instead sounding absolutely terrified. Schultz turned around in time to see Klink dash behind barracks 2.

oOoOoOoOo

"Everything's all set sir," whispered Carter, climbing out of under the last truck in the convoy. "Expect a big bang at midnight!"

Hogan rolled his eyes before grabbing Carter's collar and dragging him back towards the trees. None of the guards noticed them leave; they were still engrossed with the game going on in the compound. It wasn't every day you could see your Kommandant being chased by a bunch of prisoners.

Back in the tunnels, Hogan and Carter quickly changed out of their guard's uniforms and back into their own. Klink would eventually break up the game, and Hogan knew if he wasn't there the Bald Eagle would immediately be suspicious. He briefly tried to explain the rules of the game (which he was still struggling to grasp himself) to Carter, who was looking more and more nervous by the second. By the time they made it out of the tunnels and reached the barracks door, Hogan had thoroughly confused himself and all Carter could do was picture the game as he had seen it from outside the wire – mass tackles.

Mass tackles were quite the reality. As soon as Hogan stepped into the compound he was met with a flying tackle from LeBeau, which somehow resulted in Hogan being flat on his back with half the prisoner population of the camp on top of him, trying to find the ball which wasn't even there. Carter had watched the Australian football (yet again) bounce at an angle nobody had expected, so while everyone else involved themselves in another pile up, he made a dash for it. Dodging the chair which had somehow gone flying in his direction, Carter just managed to snatch at the ball. Or thought he did. Just as he reached out to grasp it, he was met by a flying tackle from behind.

From behind barracks 2, Klink watched the game with a look of sheer terror on his face. By now he had worked out that the prisoners were only playing a game, but beyond that he was lost. The game appeared to be incredibly violent and he had no idea how nobody had managed a serious injury yet. Klink was about to shout for Schultz again when he spotted the major in charge of the truck convoy striding into the middle of the compound.

The major was wrapped only in a towel, or so it appeared, and Klink came to the correct conclusion that he had just stormed out of the shower. Klink ran over to meet him, crashing into Schultz, who then crashed into Langenscheidt, on the way.

"What is going on here?" demanded the major, furious at having his shower interrupted by apparently fighting prisoners. He snatched Klink's pistol and fired it three times in rapid succession.


	4. Another Mission

_He snatched Klink's pistol and fired it three times in rapid succession._

Immediately all the prisoners jumped to their feet and attempted to stand at attention. Unfortunately by this point they were all bruised and out of breath, so the attention position now more closely resembled a huge mess. Carter stood up wheezing and clutching his stomach, feeling very winded. LeBeau was leaning heavily on one leg; the other he was convinced was damaged beyond repair. Hogan was more or less in one piece, but missing his hat. Kinch had already been standing for a while, his chair having been smashed when it hit the wall of barracks 2. He was feeling incredibly battered, but was in better condition that most of the others. Newkirk stood up last, surprisingly unharmed as he emerged from the very bottom of the pile-up proudly clutching the football. In fact, it appeared most of the British players had fared the best, probably due to years of experience playing versions of stool ball at school.

Once the prisoners were all looking in his direction, Klink decided it was time to get back on his feet. When the gun had gone off, he, Schultz and Langenscheidt had thrown themselves onto the ground in their own little mini pile-up. As he struggled to stand, Klink noticed the major already storming off back in the direction of the showers.

Klink stood awkwardly in front of everyone, not exactly sure what to say now that he finally had a chance to speak. He decided to start with being angry and go straight to a punishment; he could give a nice long lecture later when he had thought of one, and calmed the major down. He had looked pretty angry at his shower being interrupted.

"Prisoners of Stalag 13! Normally for such disgraceful behaviour I would have you all thrown in the cooler for a month. Unfortunately we don't have enough cells. So you are all confined to barracks until further notice with all privileges cancelled!"

The prisoners booed as Klink picked his gun off the ground, turned on his heel and stormed in the direction of his private quarters, now trying to work out what to say to the major. Schultz and Langenscheidt hobbled over, trying to shoo the prisoners back into their barracks. Unfortunately they seemed to have come out of the game worse than the prisoners, and could do little more than wave their rifles in what was assumed to be a shooing motion.

Once inside, most of the men collapsed onto their bunks using various choice words to express how they felt; sore, tired and sore. Only Newkirk seemed to have any energy left and he delighted in doing a few jumps on the spot to prove it to the others, grinning when they glared at him. LeBeau served everyone coffee, deliberately leaving Newkirk until last, and then got to work on the breakfast he hadn't had time to finish earlier. It didn't take him long to have it ready, much to the displeasure of everyone who had to force themselves to get back out of their bunks to eat. Despite their complaints, the men ate their breakfast eagerly, causing a smile of pleasure to form on LeBeau's face.

The men finished eating quickly, and were just settling in their bunks again (apart from Newkirk, who remained at the table whistling cheerfully and building a castle out of his deck of cards) when Schultz burst in through the door, closely followed by an angry looking Klink.

"Achtung! Everybody ACHTUNG!" bellowed Schultz.

Newkirk swore as his castle of cards went flying in various directions.

"Alright, what's going on out here?" asked Hogan. He walked slowly out of his office, yawning and stretching as if he didn't have a care in the world. Klink scowled at him.

"Somehow, two of the best chairs from my private quarters ended up in that disgraceful game of yours. Both of them are smashed beyond repair. I want the guilty party to confess at once so he can be thrown into the cooler!"

Hogan appeared to look thoughtful for a moment. "Do you mean literally thrown into the cooler sir? I'm pretty sure that's against the Geneva Convention. Now I think-"

What Hogan thought nobody ever found out. Klink was already getting a headache, an effect Colonel Hogan invariably seemed to have upon him, and so without another word he turned and stormed out of the barracks. With a "naughty naughty" aimed at Newkirk, Schultz followed.

Once the door had shut behind them, Hogan turned to face Newkirk, arms folded across his chest. "Klink's best chairs?" was all he asked.

Newkirk felt a little uncomfortable under the stern gaze of his commanding officer, but he answered without any show of nervousness in his voice. "Well, we needed th' chairs in a 'urry, where else was I supposed t' get 'em?"

Hogan merely rolled his eyes, turned around and headed back to his office. Before he could reach it, the door of the main barracks burst open again which elicited some more choice words from Newkirk who had just started rebuilding his card castle. The rest of the men groaned, annoyed at having their rest interrupted yet again.

Schultz stepped back inside anyway, ignoring the protests. "Kommandant Klink has ordered a head count to make sure none of you prisoners tried to escape during that crrrazy game of yours! Colonel Hogan, none of the men did try to escape, did they?"

Hogan didn't answer, instead allowing Schultz to do the count and find out for himself that everyone was still there. Everyone except Baker anyway, he was still down in the tunnels monitoring the radio. As if on cue, Schultz turned back to Hogan.

"Colonel Hogaaan, there is one man missing. Please, where is Baker? No, don't tell me, I want to know nothing. Nothing! But please, Colonel Hogan, he will be back?"

"Who says 'e even left Schultzie?" asked Newkirk, giving up on his castle.

"Yeah Schultz," joined in Carter from where he lay on his bunk. "He might still be in camp you know."

"Just waaay underneath it in a tunnel," added LeBeau.

Kinch smirked. "So he might not have actually gone past the camp fence, which means he is still in camp."

Schultz began to look horrified. "But digging tunnels is _verboten! _Even if they don't leave the camp, it is against the rules!"

"It is? Why didn't anyone tell me we aren't allowed to dig tunnels?" demanded Hogan, pretending to be shocked.

"Sorry sir, it must have slipped my mind. I think you were listening to the BBC on the radio the day Klink made that announcement," replied Kinch with the best guilty face he could muster. It wasn't easy; Schultz now looked so horrified it was almost impossible not to laugh.

"I hear nothing. NOTHING!" whined Schultz, covering his ears with his hands and almost running to the door in his haste to exit the barracks.

As soon as he was out the sound of knocking came from underneath the bunk containing the tunnel entrance. LeBeau, who happened to be nearest, immediately pushed the button which caused the bottom bead to rise, revealing the tunnel entrance and Colonel Crittendon. Hogan groaned; he had almost forgotten about Crittendon.

"I say you chaps. Baker has just received some instructions from London and he asked me to pass them on. Didn't seem to trust me to watch his radio. Can't think why. Must be overly protective of the thing. Anyway, London wants you to destroy the research papers of one of the scientists working at a secret synthetic fuel plant near here."

"Yeah, we know the one," responded Hogan, his brain already forming a few vague plans while it waited for more details.

"Apparently the underground photographed the research and sent it to London, but they didn't get a chance to destroy the original stuff, so London is passing the task on to you."

Hogan crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for the rest of the important details.

"The scientist's name is Gretchen Schnieder and the papers are kept locked in her desk at the plant. London says they need to be destroyed in the next forty-eight hours."

"Well, we can't do anything tonight," began Hogan, who was now pacing back and forth across the barracks. The rest of the men sat quietly out of his way, wondering what he would come up with. "Even if you guys had the energy tonight, we need to be in camp when the convoy blows. Crittendon, ask Baker to contact the underground and see if they have any additional information about the plant, such as the layout and where this scientist's office is located. Tell them we need all the information we can get by tomorrow night."

Crittendon saluted smartly, or at least as smartly as he could when he was still standing on the ladder in the tunnel entrance, and then disappeared to report to Baker.

oOoOoOoOo

The rest of the day was spent resting, complaining about being sore and insulting the British population of the camp for their 'horrible' sports. The British, in turn, teased the Australians for their 'stupid choice of ball.' All the men were grateful when it was time for lights out, and most were asleep before their heads hit the mattresses. They slept peacefully until midnight, when a loud noise sounding suspiciously like a truck convoy exploding woke them up with a start.


	5. Who Needs Sleep?

_They slept peacefully until midnight, when a loud noise sounding suspiciously like a truck convoy exploding woke them with a start._

oOoOoOoOo

Kommandant Klink was sound asleep when the explosion went off. The entire building shook, bowling over the lounge he was sleeping on and leaving him trapped (but unharmed) underneath it. A smaller explosion could be heard from the entrance to his quarters accompanied by an exclamation from Schultz, indicating that he had fallen through the door. A third explosion quickly came in the form of the major in charge of the truck convoy storming out of Klink's bedroom.

"KLINK!"

"Heil Hitler?" came Klink's terrified reply from underneath the couch. His right hand could be partially seen in his attempt to give the full salute. The major ignored him, too busy staring in shock and fury out the window at what a few minutes ago was a truck convoy.

"H, h, h, h, h, Herr Kommandant?"

Schultz's voice eventually roused the major from his trance. He span around to see the sergeant, his back covered from head to toe in dirt, staring at Klink's couch in shock. The couch itself was moving slightly, Klink's feeble attempts doing very little to actually shift it. The major scowled. Klink and his petty problems...

"Klink! My convoy has been sabotaged! I want you to order an immediate roll call and search of your prisoners at once!" The couch twitched, but the major ignored it and continued. "I also want a thorough search done of all their barracks, and a thorough search of the woods surrounding the camp. I am going to contact the Gestapo."

With that, the major turned on his heel and stormed off to find the nearest telephone. Unfortunately in his rage he stormed right past it and was forced to stomp backwards a few steps. Luckily for his ego, Klink and Schultz weren't paying attention. Schultz had managed to partially lift the couch and was encouraging Klink to roll out the side before he dropped it.

oOoOoOoOo

"Raus, raus, raus, raus, raus! Everrrybody raus! Roll call!"

Newkirk pretended to awake slowly from a peaceful sleep as Schultz made his way around the barracks, banging his fist on the edges of the bunks to wake the 'sleeping' prisoners.

"Whatdidya wanna go 'n wake us up for Schultzie? It ain't time for mornin' roll call yet."

The other men in the barracks all voiced their protests too, much to Schultz's amazement. How could they all have slept through an explosion that had blown him through Klink's door?

"Alright, what's going on in here?" demanded Hogan, walking into the main barracks and stretching as if he too, had just woken up. "Don't you men know the rules about lights out? What if Schultz sees – oh, hi Schultz!" He smiled, as if it were his favourite thing in the world to see Schultz in the middle of the night catching his men breaking a rule.

Of course, this had the desired effect on Schultz who no longer knew what to think or say. His mouth opened and closed on its own accord a few times, before finally the words "roll call" escaped his lips. He then almost ran out of the door before Hogan and his men could do or say anything else to confuse him.

Eventually Hogan's men made their way outside too, yawning, stretching and talking loudly about how rude it was to be woken up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. None of them appeared to notice the remains of the truck convoy just outside the fence. They lined up, each man wearing parts of the wrong uniform and standing in someone else's spot.

Schultz made his way down the row of men, counting the correct number but failing to check whether they were the correct men. At the end of his count he sighed with relief; all fifteen were present. He turned to say something to Hogan, but stopped short when he realised that it wasn't Hogan he was talking to.

"LeBeau! That is not where you stand! And that is not your jacket, that one belongs to Kinchloe! Where is Kinchloe? And where is Colonel Hogannnn?"

LeBeau was about to respond, but Carter, from the other end of the line, got in first. "Funny that you should have the wrong jacket Louis, I appear to have someone else's hat. You know, that's weird, I always make sure I put on my own uniform and yet-"

"Carter! That's my hat you're wearing!" piped up Hogan, from somewhere in the middle of the group. Schultz looked like he was about to faint.

"Well, you 'ave my 'at sir," called out Newkirk. Schultz's mouth fell open in shock; Newkirk hadn't put any uniform on at all, but was standing proudly in the front row of men wearing his nightclothes, and nothing else. Despite the freezing weather, he didn't even have shoes on. Schultz was still staring at Newkirk's feet when the Kommandant stormed out of his quarters.

" h, Herr Kommandant," he stammered, turning away from the prisoners. Immediately they all swapped back into their correct places and uniforms, Newkirk snatching his overcoat from Kinch and putting it on hastily. Klink and Schultz failed to notice anything. "All present and accounted for!"

Klink was never given a chance to reply. Just as he opened his mouth to speak a large black car drove in through the front gate and stopped directly outside Klink's office. Klink rushed over at once, saluting at the passenger door of the car before opening it, allowing the figure of a man to step out. Hogan and his men immediately recognised him as Major Hochstetter. Klink hastily saluted Hochstetter's back before following the Major into his office.

Schultz stared after the Kommandant for a moment, but it was not until he heard the prisoners dismissing themselves that he realised he should dismiss them himself and get to Klink's office before he was called. He was never given the chance however; a shout of "Schuuuultz!" from the direction of Klink's office was enough to send the overweight sergeant running, forgetting all about the prisoners.

oOoOoOoOo

"Colonel Hogan. COLONEL HOGAN!"

Schultz whispered as loud as possible, desperate to wake Hogan but equally desperate not to wake the rest of the barracks who were pretending to be asleep again. Hogan stubbornly refused to waken however, causing Schultz to roughly shake his shoulder in frustration.

"COLONEL HOGANNNNNN!"

Hogan shoved the sergeant's hand away, murmuring something Schultz could not understand. Schultz raised his hand to shake Hogan's shoulder again but before he was able, the door to the outer barracks was heard to burst open. This was followed by noisy complaints from the men, seemingly frustrated at being 'woken up' yet again. Hogan himself remained 'asleep,' much to the annoyance and confusion of Schultz.

"HOGAN!"

This time the shout came from Major Hochstetter, who appeared red in the face as he burst his way into Hogan's private quarters. Hogan finally woke, slowly.

"Bit early in the morning for room service, isn't it Major?" he asked innocently, rubbing his eyes in attempt to get used to the sudden brightness as Klink, who had followed in behind Hochstetter, turned on the light.

Hochstetter's face turned even redder, if possible. "BAH!" was all he could manage.

"Something wrong?" asked Hogan as he took in the Major's livid expression. He also took in Hochstetter's clothing. Instead of his usual Gestapo uniform, he wore a smart suit. A small whiff of aftershave also seemed to be accompanying him, which was unusual. "Aww Major, did you leave a date early tonight, just to come visit me?"

Hochstetter seemed incapable of replying. Instead he turned on his heel and stormed back out of Hogan's private room, Klink on his heels. They both ignored the complaints from the prisoners as they exited the barracks. Hogan looked mildly curious.

"What was all that about Schultz?"

Schultz looked around carefully to make sure nobody was listening before he replied.

"Apparently Major Hochstetter was on a date in town tonight when he was called here. Apparently he is seeing a famous scientist!"

"Famous scientist? What's her name?" asked Hogan, actually starting to feel interested. He leaned in towards Schultz, as if they were school buddies sharing the latest talk about girls.

"Gretchen Schnieder, she-"

Hogan cut the sergeant off before he could go any further.

"Thanks for the chat Schultz, but shouldn't you be running after Klink and Hochstetter now?"

Schultz's eyes grew wide, thinking that of course Colonel Hogan must be right. He turned as fast as he could and rushed out of the barracks, completely forgetting what they had been talking about.

As soon as Schultz had left, Hogan made his way out into the main barracks where he found his men wide awake and looking very unimpressed at the night's proceedings.

"Gentlemen," announced Hogan, choosing to pretend his men were wide awake and interested. "I have an idea."

oOoOoOoOo

_I have had this chapter sitting around half finished for over a month, but haven't had much time to put on it. So I am posting it now to get it out of the way, but the second half especially is relatively unedited._

As usual though, comments/constructive criticism is welcome!


	6. The Exploding Flowerpot

"_Gentlemen," announced Hogan, choosing to pretend his men were wide awake and interested. "I have an idea."_

oOoOoOoOo

That morning after roll call, Carter headed down into the tunnels to begin 'phase 1' of the operation. Having been half asleep when Hogan had explained the plan, Carter only remembered what he was supposed to do, not why. He was so deep in thought about what possible use an exploding flower pot could have that he didn't notice Colonel Crittendon and his men doing exercises until someone narrowly missed hitting him in the head.

"Carter my boy!" burst out Crittendon, looking far too cheerful for someone doing star-jumps so early in the morning. He proceeded to star-jump his way across the tunnel to Carter, forcing his own men to scatter.

"Why don't you join us for some exercise? It will do you the world of good, even if there isn't any fresh air down here."

At this, he gave up on his star-jumps; too out of breath to continue. He stood still, trying to take in deep gulps of air while behind him his men slumped against the walls. Carter contemplated backing away slowly or maybe even running, but paused when he remembered why he was down there.

"Well gee, sorry sir. I would love to, but Colonel Hogan sent me down here on a mission..." he trailed off, feeling nervous of the excited look Crittendon was giving him.

Crittendon positively beamed at Carter. "A mission! Anything I can help with? I've trained with some of the best, don't you kn-"

"Sorry sir, exploding flowerpots are a one-man job, but thanks for the offer," replied Carter, dashing off to his lab as fast as possible and leaving Crittendon to ponder the meaning of his last sentence.

Crittendon turned back to his men, intending to ask their opinions, but he stopped short when he saw them all sitting on the ground with their backs to the walls, dozing.

oOoOoOoOo

An hour later, Hogan strolled calmly into Kommandant Klink's office, not bothering to knock on his way in. He pretended not to see Major Hochstetter, who paused, scowling, in the middle of a sentence.

"Hogannnn..."

"Hogan! What are you doing here?"

"Herr Kommandant, I have a small list of requests from the men," began Hogan, pulling some paper out of one of his many pockets. He began to unfold it, slowly, watching Klink's face from the corner of his eye. As the paper grew larger and larger, so did Klink's frustration.

Hochstetter's scowl also grew larger and he snatched the list before Hogan had a chance to read anything. Hogan took advantage of the small distraction, quickly pulling a small flower pot, complete with flowers from Klink's garden, out of his jacket. How he had fit it in there he would never know, but both Germans were too busy reading his list to notice this strange occurrence. Hogan gently placed the flower pot on the edge of Klink's desk. A second later, Hochstetter and Klink lifted their heads up to glare at Hogan, neither looking at all impressed.

"A football field?"

"An Australian football field sir, some of the men from barracks thirteen asked for it."

"Oh really, and where do you suggest we put it?"

"What is this nonsense?"

"Well if we could knock down the cooler, it would fit well there sir."

"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?!"

Hogan turned to face Hochstetter.

"What do you think Major? Should we knock down the cooler? Or maybe the guard's shower block?"

"Bah! You have wasted enough of my time already Hogan, leave this office at once!"

"Say Major, is it true that you have a girl in town?" asked Hogan, not moving an inch. Hochstetter simply glared and refused to answer, so Hogan turned innocently back to Klink.

"Hey Kommandant, did you know the Major has a girl in town?"

"No, I didn – HOGANNN! Who Major Hochstetter is seeing in town is none of your concern. Now leave this office at once!"

Hogan refused to give up so easily. Instead of leaving, he took advantage of Klink's anger to steal one of his cigars before continuing on with what he had to say to Hochstetter.

"You know, you never did answer me last night when I asked if you had cancelled a date just to come visit me. Was I right? Won't she be upset?"

By this time, Hochstetter was very red in the face and for a moment he struggled to find any appropriate words. It seemed every time he came into contact with Hogan, it got more difficult to speak. Eventually, after a few deep breaths, he managed to open his mouth and force some words out.

"The reason I had to leave my date early, Colonel Hogan, is because you and your men decided to blow up a truck convoy right outside of this camp!"

"Gosh Major, I don't recall blowing up a truck convoy last night. But you are welcome to check my diary and see if I had it written down. And maybe ask the guards if they saw me sleep walking; I do have a history of blowing things up in my sleep."

It was only after he had said this in one breath that Hogan realised he had done quite an accurate impersonation of Carter. Still, it did the trick. Yet again the Gestapo Major found himself virtually speechless; the best he could manage was a solid "BAH!" Hogan used this as an opening for his next attack.

"You know, your girl won't want to talk to you much at all if that's all you have to say. Hey, I know! Maybe you could send her some flowers, I'm sure the Kommandant wouldn't mind if you sent his, and then she would be in a better mood when - "

"Hogan, OUUUT!"

Hogan finally decided to leave, having seen the thoughtful look on Hochstetter's face when the flowers were mentioned. He offered both men a sloppy salute and left, pausing for a moment on the other side of the door in time to see the Major pick up the pot of flowers.

oOoOoOoOo

Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinch and Olsen looked up from their card game as Hogan entered the barracks, whistling. They knew instantly that the plan had gone well, but they could also tell from the look on Hogan's face that he was waiting to be asked about it. Newkirk obliged.

"How'd it go sir?"

"Our favourite Gestapo Major is posting the flowers right now. At midnight tonight, those innocent looking flowers will be responsible for blowing up Gretchen Schneider's desk, along with all her research papers."

While the men let out a small cheer, Hogan looked around for Carter, meaning to offer congratulations. Unfortunately, the sergeant was nowhere in sight, so after spending a few more minutes talking with his men, Hogan went down into the tunnels to look for him.

The sight he saw left him speechless.


	7. Take a Deep Breath, Gentlemen

_Author's Note: Sorry it has been so long since I have updated – I have been very busy starting uni and keeping my new Destruct-O-Dog occupied. _

oOoOoOoOo

_While the men let out a small cheer, Hogan looked around for Carter, meaning to offer congratulations. Unfortunately, the sergeant was nowhere in sight, so after spending a few more minutes talking with his men, Hogan went down into the tunnels to look for him. _

_The sight he saw left him speechless._

On the ground in front of him lay eight men. Easily recognisable was Colonel Crittendon, who was waving his arms in the air and calling "breathe in, hold, and breathe out." Six out of the other seven men were doing as told – taking a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, and then breathing back out. The other man was Carter, and he appeared to be fast asleep.

Crittendon failed to notice Hogan, and continued to call out breathing direction to his men, who were now all standing at attention. Carter remained on the ground, snoring gently.

"Carter," whispered Hogan, almost feeling guilty for waking the man. None of his team had managed to get much sleep lately.

"Carter!" he whispered a little louder, shaking Carter's shoulder gently.

Carter stirred, and slowly opened his eyes. When he saw Colonel Hogan leaning over him he scrambled to his feet, attempting to stand at attention and nearly falling back over. Only when he was on his feet properly did he notice that his commanding officer looked amused, not angry. Carter attempted an apology anyway.

"I'm sorry Sir, it was those deep breathing exercises. I've just been so tired lately, I guess when Colonel Crittendon made me join in and then we started breathing real slow and-"

"It's okay, just get back up to the barracks, grab Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk, bring them back down here and start organising Crittendon and his men for their journey back to England. I want uniforms, papers, the works. I'll call London for a sub to pick them up. And congratulations, your flowers were a big success with Hochstetter."

"Thanks boy! Uh, I mean, sir, uh, I'll go get the boys now."

With that final whisper, Carter crept back down the tunnel, careful not to draw Crittendon's attention. Hogan took another tunnel, to the radio room.

"Alright men, you should be fully relaxed by now. I want you all to close your eyes and let your other senses take over. Become aware of your surroundings..."

oOoOoOoOo

"Blimey, that's all we need."

LeBeau looked up from the needle he was threading when he heard Newkirk's dark mutter. Newkirk was standing by a rack of coats, seemingly sorting through them.

"What's all we need?" LeBeau asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Newkirk scowled. "I've only got 4 civilian coats left, an' I ain't got enough fabric to make more."

"Well we will just have to give them other outfits to wear then," suggested LeBeau.

"What other outfits? We 'avn't go' any spare German uniforms, and most of our lady's clothes were wrecked in that cave in we 'ad th' other week."

"Well why don't you ask Colonel Hogan if you can go out into town and buy more?" offered LeBeau.

Newkirk ignored the slight sarcasm in his friend's voice and headed for the radio room, where he knew he would find Colonel Hogan.

oOoOoOoOo

A little old lady shuffled down a path in the woods, helped along by a younger man. She had a full head of grey hair pulled back in a messy bun, a simple white blouse covered by a shabby blue jacket and a matching skirt that trailed along the ground, in danger of being stepped on. Her glasses balanced delicately on her nose. The young man wore a brown coat and trousers, and a hat that partially covered his eyes and hid his face. Nobody else appeared to be in sight.

The young man began to speak.

"I don't get it Newkirk, how come the Colonel sent us out on another daylight mission?"

"Blimey Andrew," responded the little old lady sounding very un-German, and incredibly un-lady-like. Realising her mistake, she switched to German, and her voice became frail and high pitched. "I'm Frau Newkirkberger, and you, Hans my son, are here to help me buy some fabric to make the coats. We are doing this in daylight because that is when the shops just happen to be open. And also the Colonel wants us back in camp tonight when your flowerpot explodes."

The last sentence would not have made sense to anyone else who heard, but fortunately no one, except the young man, did.

"But..."

The young man was cut off by a slight rustling from a nearby tree. Immediately he and the little old lady stopped walking and stared at the tree, suspicious. Slowly, they approached it. The tree appeared to be holding it's breath. The little old lady straightened up until she no longer looked so little, and looked up into the tree's branches. At first nothing was visible, but soon she was able to make out the shape of a man hiding near the top.

The man was wearing a barely recognisable RAF uniform. Most of it was torn, revealing a combination of bare skin and various undergarments. On a nearby branch was another man whose uniform was in similar condition.

"Why don't you come down from there young lads?" the little old lady asked in English.

The two men looked at each other, unsure how to react. Was this little old lady trying to capture them? They had been shot down over a week ago and had been wandering the German countryside ever since, managing to avoid capture but making little progress towards a way out. They were hungry, thirsty and exhausted, but surely a little old lady and her son couldn't really force them to do anything?

The little old lady sighed. It was common knowledge (thanks to a complaining camp _Kommandant _going by the name of Klink) that six British airmen had been shot down but had avoided capture last week. They were rumoured to be in the area, but so far nobody had managed to find them.

The young man spoke up.

"You look lost. I'm sure Papa Bear will help you find your way home if you come out of the tree."

At the mention of the words 'Papa Bear', the two men exchanged glances again.

"You know Papa Bear?" asked a voice from behind the young man, startling him and making him jump.

The little old lady and the young man turned around and looked up to see four more men hiding amongst the branches of a larger tree.

"Oh yes, we know Papa Bear, he's good friend's with Goldilocks," replied the little old lady. As the men slowly made their way out of their trees, she lowered her voice so that only the young man could hear her. "And when we bring this lot back, without my fabric, Papa Bear migh' be a little cross."

oOoOoOoOo

"Papa Bear to Goldilocks, Papa Bear to Goldilocks, come in please Goldilocks."

Hogan leaned back a little in his chair and sighed. He had not been able to make contact with London yet, and he was starting to feel frustrated. It didn't feel safe to keep the same men underground for too long, especially not when one of the men was Colonel Crittendon. He was so deep in thought about routes the seven men could take that he nearly missed London's response on the radio.

"Goldilocks to Papa Bear, Goldilocks to Papa Bear, come in please Papa Bear."

"Hello Goldilocks, this is Papa Bear, with an urgent request to make," began Hogan.

Goldilocks cut him off.

"Papa Bear, we have another job for you. In three nights, there will be a large supply train in your area headed for the Eastern Front. We want you and your cubs to destroy it."

"That might be a bit-"

"Good, glad you can do it Papa Bear, Goldilocks out."

Hogan groaned – when Gretchen Schnieder's desk blew tonight, the area would yet again be crawling with Gestapo, and Hogan of course would be Hochstetter's chief suspect, despite being in camp at the time of the explosion. He was already furious about the bridges and the truck convoy being blown, adding in the desk would make destroying a supply train very difficult, not to mention dangerous.

'_How can things get any worse?'_ Hogan asked himself, hoping he wouldn't get an answer.

Unfortunately, the answer came immediately in the form of a little old lady and a young man...

oOoOoOoOo

_More Author's Notes:_

_As always, opinions, reviews, etc, are greatly appreciated. _

_I would also like to know how people feel about Hogan's Heroes crossovers? I have a couple of ideas forming in my head (Hogans Heroes & Dad's Army and/or Hogan's Heroes & Allo Allo.) It will be a while before I get a chance to write them, but I would like to know what interest there is out there? Thanks!_


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